The Colors of the Mists
by Dark K. Sly
Summary: To weaken and love. To leave and suffer. To vanish in the mists and be eternal. .SalazarXGodric. .Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Colors of the Mists – Part One: In the Mists

**Title: The Colors of the Mists – Part One: In the Mists**  
**Autora: **DarkAngel  
**Summary: **To weaken and love. To leave and suffer. To vanish in the mists and be eternal.  
**Shippers: **Salazar Slytherin\Godric Gryffindor  
**Gênero: **Romance\Angst  
**Classificação: **Mature  
**Spoilers: **none

**Disclaimer: **Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling. Only the insane plot is mine. XD  
Hope you like it.

**The little part of the song in the beginning of the fic is from the song **_**Bleed, Cold, **_**which isn't mine either, by the way.**

**This first part's got a lemon. It's really subtle and everything, but if you don't like it, then DON'T read it, and surely all our lives'll be happier. XD**

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_The Colors of the Mists-_

_In the Mists_

by DarkAngel

_You can stop the world  
Try to change my mind  
Won't you let me show you  
How it feels  
You can stop the world  
But you won't change me_

**Bleed – Cold**

The sheets are white and the light is pale. The curtains are immobile for the windows are closed and that doesn't allow the icy wind to get in through them and keeps the temperature of the room. The external temperature, the one which touches my skin while I behold the form sleeping in the bed. The temperature of the winds and the environment, that contradicts the winter and keeps the same.

The winter is warm inside the castle and my soul is cold inside the passion. The dark armchair takes me because I'm not brave enough to wake him. He is in peace while sleeping. His long dark blond hair is spread among the sheets, his tanned skin, even while winter, bristles with the light breeze that finds its way between the cravlices to enter the bedroom. In his sleep I can hear peace of spirit every time he breathes. His usually bold features gain almost childish ways while he is asleep.

Godric's sleep is a vision to behold. It's seeing his soul exposed every time he moves. No masks, no fears, no rivalries, no nothing. Godric is incredibly pure. So pure that I can't stand to be by his side while he is asleep. I watch him from my armchair and I try to memorize every detail of his face in my memory. Only god knows how long I will still be here. How long till I betray his trust. How long till he hates me.

And that's why I watch him from my armchair.

I don't love him.

I know I don't love him, I haven't got any romantic thoughts about him, I don't feel any instinct to protect him from the world. He doesn't need, or want, any protection. I wouldn't change my worldviews because of him. I wouldn't change my plans because I know how this will hurt his soul. I don't care he will suffer after I'm gone. I think all of this really means I don't love him.

However, I feel tenderness. Years and years of friendship and companionship, a wide-open smile like I'll never have and such a permanent innocence that enchants at the same time it disturbs you. Godric is a challenge, almost a riddle and I like being beside him.

But not so much that I'd change what I am to have it.

I do not know what are his reasons to be by my side and neither have I tried to understand what I did to have him trust me, really trust me. And I know he does. He _sleeps_ in my rooms. It's the biggest proof of trust I could ever ask of anyone. Even a bigger proof of what I feel for him. I am not able to fall asleep with him here. I am not able to close my eyes and let myself go guardless and defenseless, asleep and in peace beside him. I don't trust anyone enough to do this and the fondness I have for Godric is not enough to change the way I feel.

I feel a bit guilty, because I start to realize that Godric loves me, but I don't know how to love him back.

Like he could see I was looking at him, Godric open his eyes and stares at me, sleepy, defenseless, with the clear confusion that possesses those who are in peace and wake with no worries. He smiles slightly and sits on the bed. The sheets slip over his chest and I can see his whole body, while he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, taking his surroundings, while his other hand supports him on the mattress.

He blinks, still sleepy and stares at me again. His smile widens and he seems to say something I don't notice. I just stare at him. Godric has pureness. He is, by essence, good. He wouldn't hurt anyone if given a chance and he possesses such bravery and such selflessness that scares me. Maybe this is why he didn't hesitate in loving me; even knowing I would never love him back. He knows me deeply, he knows I couldn't. And even still, he tries.

I smile at this thought. The little smiles that, as he says, change my face. Godric always tries, is like an addiction, he _has got_ to try, he has _necessity_ to prove that there's something good in each person, even in me.

I end up getting up of the armchair and going to him, who kneels on the bed and holds my face in his hands. He looks at me, seriously this time, and delineates, with his fingertips, my lips, as if he was trying to memorize me, the same way I was when I was looking at his features earlier. His lips touch mine, slowly, languidly, not with a kiss that takes to passion, but which leads to tenderness, and I surrender to him, entangling my hands in his hair.

He pulls me against him, undoing the knot that ties my robe, following with his hands the track the silk makes on my shoulders and arms, and makes me sit on the bed, taking me with him, till is he who is on my lap, the kiss getting hotter, his hands faster, his eyes flashing with desire. His lips apart from mine and stares at me. Seriousness and passion overflow his eyes, a combination I never thought was possible till I saw it in Godric's light brown eyes. Without taking his eyes off mine, without a word, without trying to make me speak, he moves against me, his brown eyes burning mine.

His body harbors mine and I lose all coherence in the way I only allow myself to do with Godric. Our whispers get lost between us and his mouth greets mine, like we were born to be like this.

His forehead comes to rest against mine, and he moves faster and faster, and I'm sure no-one has ever seen him as beautiful as he is now, sweat marking his body and no coherence in his moans. His eyes are closed, showing all of his trust and I can't look away. I make lines in his back and arms. I hold his hair and kiss him. I lose all deliberation in my moves just for being united to him.

He moves against me one last time, and we come at the same instant and he kisses me. Hungrily, strongly, passionately. His eyes closed and his soul at my will.

Our breathes become pants while he stares at me, caresses my face, kisses my skin, seems to be trying to absorb my very essence.

We end up lying, side by side, and he holds me in a kind of hug, sleeping soon after.

I just look at him while he sleeps. The fights throughout the castle make him insecure, I can feel it. He doesn't like confrontations, and likes them even less when all of the confrontations are against me. He acts impulsively and always thinks he might hurt me. For that there are no words when he comes, sneakily, to my rooms every night.

Perhaps he thinks he might change the way I think if he makes me love him.

I get off the bed and open the curtains. The day is rising. The mists take over the gardens of the castle.

I feel myself going weak.

I no longer want to leave.

I want to be able to have Godric's smell take over my senses every time I wake up. I want to be able to sleep by his side. I want to be able to see him give himself to me, forever. I want to feel him, consume him, have him and belong to him.

I still don't love him.

But I start to wish I did.

My plans are made, my living in this castle is not possible anymore. Not even Godric speaks to me. His eyes tell me more than I would ever want to hear. They scream disappointment. They shout pain. And, for the first time, I feel my own heart ache.

Is love such a elusive feeling that it'd have taken over my heart without my notice, that would have been passed from Godric to me, like an illness?

I look at the man sleeping in my bed.

The sheets are white and the day outside these rooms are in the same color, clouded by the mists which surround the castle. I feel like disappearing among them and vanish, forever.

While I still can.

While Godric still doesn't have me captive.

While I know my heart won't bleed so much.

I take a deep breath and take over my self-control. Some day I'll have to leave. What a better moment than right now? I don't need anything besides what's ready to go with me. My trunks have been ready for weeks now.

What was tying me to this castle?

Godric turns in the bed, uncomfortable in his usual peaceful sleep. My wish is to lie beside him and leave everything behind, forget about everything and go weak. Weaken myself and love. Like Godric.

But I know I can't. There are beliefs, not only my own, but of each and every family that has allowed me to teach their children. I have become more than a man, I became a symbol. I cannot allow myself to go weak.

I will _not_ go weak.

I quietly leave the room and stand for some minutes, only watching the dawn among the mists surrounding the castle which is my home. I feel, more than I hear, footsteps behind me. I reach the edge of the forest and turn to look at the castle doors.

With a black cloak on his back, Godric watches me through the mists. Even far from him I can see tears in his eyes.

I close my eyes and let myself get lost in the mists, so that I vanish.

Before I leave the lands of the place I love, I make one last wish. I ask that Godric is able to forget me and hate me.

In order to be a belief I need to be strong. And Godric's love would make me weak.

"_Bravery, Salazar, is nothing more than a foolishness well used."_

Let me be fool, then, dear friend, brother… _love._

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**That was the first part.**

**If you want the second (which really isn't a sequel, but only Godric's POV) you only have to press the little button right down here, on your left.**

**Thank you.**

**R E V I E W !**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: The Colors of the Mists**  
**Author: **DarkAngel  
**Summary: **Because even made only by mists, you are more real than I'll ever be.  
**Shippers: **Salazar Slytherin\Godric Gryffindor  
**G: **Romance\Angst  
**Rating: **Mature  
**Spoilers: **none

**Disclaimer: **Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling. Only the insane plot is mine. XD  
Hope you like it.

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_The Colors os the Mists _

By DarkAngel

Of the colors of the mists your smile was made, which was dim, inconstant and ethereal. Unreal for it was always there, but I've never really seen it. Of the colors of the mists your features were made, a mask covering your true reactions, always at bay of really appearing. Of the colors of the mists your eyes were made, clouded and intense, but covered by layers of mystery I always wanted to unveil. Of the colors of the mists your feelings were made, for someone coming near was reason enough for them to become even more distant and untouchable, coming to the point of some to doubt they really existed.

Of the colors o the mists you were made, who just as your sire, has disappeared on the dawn, leaving the sun shining and birds singing on a clear and bright day, pretending its presence had never been there.

Of the colors of the mists...

The same constancy the fog possesses you did too, throughout the time you've been here. I won't say by my side, you've never been by my side, you'd been, simply, here. Just as the lightest breeze makes the mists change its direction, your kisses become scoff; as the pale sun makes the fog disappear, your promises become threats.

I've never understood you, but now I realize that understanding you would be loosing you. Just as capturing the mists is turning it into water, simple water, understanding you is turn you human, simple human, and that would have guaranteed your staying here, but not your will of staying.

I wonder you've never _wanted_ to stay, once you've already had everything ready for your leave.

I miss you.

I've never thought it would come the day when I would admit it so easily, but I miss you.

Like a physical pain, a constancy you've never had, for being made of mists, your absence hurts, weights, oppresses, aches.

I miss you.

Sometimes I stare at the lake and the gardens of the castle, and find myself wondering that we only miss what hurts us and that, perhaps, our souls disposition is, by essence, to suffer. We do not miss what is here and, for this reason, we never appreciate the beloved presence as we should.

At the moment we lose it, we miss it completely, all its absence, all its lack, every gesture, every touch, and for that, we suffer. We find out we love when we are plainly conscious that such love is no longer possible, and, for that, the lost person becomes dearer to our souls and our hearts.

We plainly love only what we will never possess and we realize the perfection in each gesture only when we can no longer see it.

We love what makes us suffer. I end up convincing myself that, even more than just miss you, I also loved you. I still do.

And I am quite sure that, had you stayed here, Salazar, I would never had admitted this. Not for stubbornness, or pride, but simply because I wouldn't have seen how much your presence made me happy, how privileged I should have felt for having you by my side.

You never were someone I should have considered as constant, as guaranteed, I should have fought more to really be by your side and, for that, I cannot help but blame myself for your leave. Guilty, sorrow and love. Everything weights together and aches, more than your presence did, because your presence had the colors of the mists, light and inconstant, a little voluble, sometimes on the edge of the futile ordinary beauty, and, in the next moment, you would surprise me and rejuvenize me, and make me happy with something simple like your eyes. Their brightness, which almost gave me hope to, in the very next second, throw me down my ecstasy when you would mock my happy behavior, which in your words were childishly inappropriate.

I miss you, because you've always known how weak I am and you never cared to try to make me stronger. You understood my weakness, just like I understood your strength and both of us knew no-one beside ourselves would realize how much we completed each other. But our names, our beliefs, our lives wanted us in opposite sides.

Opposite ideals in twin souls, just as image and reflex on a silver mirror, destined to support our beliefs and fight for what we thought right, even if in such different ways.

I am a fool. I miss you because I fought for my ideals, I miss you because you weren't right and I couldn't stand to see injustice.

Please, explain to me, Salazar, how could I love you so much, if I've never understood the way you think? If I've never agreed with your main beliefs? How could I love you so much, how can I still love so strongly someone made of mists, whose beliefs are made of marble and whose soul is made of ice?

How can I love you, my dear love made of the colors of the mists, if you've never loved me back?

And how can I still feel everything I do, if you've left? Or perhaps this is just me being fool and not realizing that the base of my feelings resides exactly on the fact that you're gone. That becoming untouchable you've become, also, loved, because I would never hear your refusal, once you wouldn't be here to express it, or I will never have to face your acceptance, in case you return my feelings?

Irony that the founder of the House of the Brave is, by essence, a coward.

Coward for not seeing I loved, or for just allow me to love only what I can no longer have. Coward for wanting to see in the mists the constancy of the rocks, just for knowing I'd never have it.

Coward for seeing the love made of mists leaving, and let it leave, so that I could contemplate the love I've always felt, and would have never found out, if you had stayed here.

Coward and in love.

Because even made only by mists, you are more real than I will ever be.

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**That's it.**

**Now be a darling and review.**

**XD**


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